


The Red and the White

by HermineKurotowa



Series: Bread and Blood verse [2]
Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Biting, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2677142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermineKurotowa/pseuds/HermineKurotowa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally, Jensen and Jared are happy together. Then Jensen meets his creator, and at the end, Jared is being awesome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Red and the White

**Author's Note:**

> Timestamp to Bread and Blood. 
> 
> A big plate of cookies for my wonderful alphas somersault_j and junkerin, my lovely beta debauchedsock and the brilliant m14mouse who made the beautiful art. I love you ladies.
> 
> I'm very sorry it took me so long to finish this fic. Ty just didn't want to be written. *sighs*
> 
> I'm also sorry about the ending. I don't think there will be more timestamps or sequels, not in the foreseeable future.

 

Trust is a wonderful thing.

Face to face, thrusting into Jared – watching him moan, writhe, sweat, because he _trusts_ Jensen – that is all he needs: the other body's tight heat, Jared's fingernails scratching his back, and there being nothing between them. He is as close as possible to his lover, his life as he can get.

Angling his body, he finds that spot in Jared and makes him _mewl_. _Fuck_ , it's so hot. He does it again, just to hear that sound. Then he sinks his teeth in, breaking lightly tanned skin, tasting sweat and _Jared_. He smells apples when Jared comes untouched, spurting hot stripes of white between them, and it's so hot.

He comes inside Jared, marking him with his own hot white release, still sucking blood from his shoulder, and this is all he wants and needs.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jensen still only sleeps a couple of hours in the night. He always thought his insomnia was caused by his situation, the loneliness, his work – _stuff_. As it appears, it is a symptom of his condition. But now, when he is awake in the night, it's nice. He can watch a DVD or TV, knowing that Jared is asleep in the next room, or he can watch Jared in his sleep.

He likes watching Jared – in the morning when he is barely awake, after his run when he is all flushed pink and sweaty, in the evening when he eats pizza and pasta while talking about his day. But watching Jared sleep is what he likes best, relaxed and sleep-warm, breathing evenly.

Right now, Jared is dreaming. His eyes are rolling under their lids, his lips twitching in a soft smile.

 _God, he's gorgeous_ , Jensen thinks

Jensen still can't believe that he has _this_. When he told Jared about his condition, there was the great fall-out he had dreaded. Jared's words – _need to think, give me time_ – cut into him right to the bone though Jensen understood. He would have freaked out even more if his boyfriend confessed being a unnatural creature, if the roles were reversed.

During the next several weeks, he was rooted to the spot in front of his living room window, staring down into Jared's window, seeing nothing but shadows moving through the blinds.

Then, Jared's dad died.

When Jared called, he left his apartment straight away. Comforting Jared helped Jensen too, soothing the pain left behind by Tahmoh's death. Maybe Jensen is a killer but he killed in self-defense, to protect his boyfriend. He would be mourning Jared now if he hadn't snapped Tahmoh's neck.

The next steps were difficult, though. _Tiny_.

Butterfly touches of hands and shoulders, small smiles, brief kisses on cheeks, cuddling on the couch and in the bed. Maybe that was the best part, waking up after two or three hours of sleep with long fingers curled around his and strong legs tangled in his, breathing the same air and sharing body heat.

Jared doesn't need to work as hard as before now that his dad is gone and he doesn't have to pay for his care. He quit the part-time janitor job after an unknown benefactor donated a big sum to the hospital, paying all of his outstanding bills – Jensen wonders if the senator would ever do something of the sort, but he keeps his mouth shut.

Now that he only waits tables at Jeff's restaurant and club, Jared is able to start college again. Jensen works as a bouncer at the _Lido Nights_ club when Jared waits tables. He is kind, but unyielding, especially when someone is about to touch his boyfriend inappropriately.

During the day, Jensen worked at a construction site. His unnatural physical strength works to his advantage when cement bags and wooden boards needed hauling around. He is well liked by his co-workers – not least for his dry wit and sharing the candy Jared puts into his lunch box. For the first time since seventh grade, he has friends.

When he needs blood, he falls back on hook-ups he finds in clubs – night clubs, pubs, men and women, he is not picky in that regard. There's nothing sexual about feeding from people other than Jared, though he tries to make it a night to remember for them. They are only _food_ , a way to keep up his strength and sanity, and keep the hunger under control.

Jared, though – _Jared_ is different. When he is allowed to feed from Jared, it is more than just the blood. With every sip he sucks _life_. He only needs a few sips, but it makes for some memorable nights in bed. The next morning, Jared is usually ravenous, eating heaps of pancakes and sausages and drinking more orange juice than coffee, but he is fine, signature silly grin in place.

It wasn't easy for Jared to trust him, Jensen knows that. He was shot and hurt badly because of Jensen who is not human, who could bleed him to death if he couldn't contain the urge. Restraining himself is easy now, though. It is something he learned in the closet and, later, in the mental institution.

And tonight Jared gave him the biggest gift.

They shared intimacy and affection, and Jensen had never experienced anything similar before. Oh, of course he knows sex in many varieties, but Jared doesn't. They had traded blow jobs and hand jobs before, they had cuddled and rutted against each other. Tonight though – tonight, Jared agreed to bottom, and beyond that, he agreed to bareback.

Now he is sleeping peacefully, the scent of apples still lingering in the air.

Jensen watches, smiling.

Right at that moment, it hits him.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Jensen comes to, Jared is still sleeping.

He doesn't know what happened. There is just the feeling of... a dark desire, an appalling appetite receding slowly from his veins. Wide-eyed and frantic, he searches Jared but there is nothing, no wounds, no bite marks.

“Hmmm... Jen...” Jared mumbles, sinking back into sleep.

Jensen remembers blood in his throat, a stream of blood, more than he had ever drank in one go. But – it's not his throat, his fangs biting and tearing.

Is it a memory – can it be? He has never killed a person, not with his teeth anyway. There were those times in the institution when he was crazy, howling mad with blood lust, but he has never killed someone. That is what he had thought all the time – until now.

Now there is doubt in his heart

His skin is too tight, his hair damp with sweat, his stomach revolving around a dark center, hot and crimson. It's a feeling he has experienced before, way back, when Ty left him to die, to rot in a wardrobe.

~~~~~~~~~~

_It's the first time Jensen is in love. It's a good feeling._

_When he first met Ty, he was a john – the only way for Jensen to meet guys, though he never considered it a way to meet a boyfriend. Ty was older, attentive and kind. He paid without a fuss, never asked for kinky stuff though he liked sex a bit rough, and said things like,_ 'You should be a model' _and_ 'One day, I'm gonna get you out of here _'._

_It is no wonder Jensen fell for him in just a few weeks' time._

_He believed him when Ty started talking about running away, making a new life together, a home._

_They meet in an abandoned apartment building. Jensen brings his backpack with all his belongings because Ty asked him to._

_Before leaving, they make love._

_That's what Jensen makes himself believe because it's too rough, too painful for him to enjoy. He says It hurts, but Ty doesn't listen, keeps on pounding, his chest to Jensen's back._

_Tears are pooling in Jensen's eyes because it hurts, because he feels betrayed. This is not the Ty he knows. And then... something scratches at his neck._

Teeth. _Teeth are scraping over his skin, and Ty bites, he is sinking long teeth into soft flesh while at the same time emptying his seed into him._

_Jensen's toes are starting to tingle. His orgasm is racing through his spine, washing over him, drowning him in a wave of lust and pleasure._

_Ty is still sucking his blood like a leech. It causes a feeling in Jensen's loins he has never experienced before, something he would describe like the purest pleasure, and there is still more where his orgasm came from. He is still riding the high._

_When Ty keeps on sucking though, Jensen's moans of lust become moans of distress and pain._

_Losing blood hurts. No – getting his life sucked out of him hurts. He tries to buck off the man he thought to be his lover, but the grip on his shoulders tightens, and the weight on his back increases. In the end, there is nothing left to fight with, no blood, no strength, no life, and Jensen, succumbing to the darkness, ceases to exist._

~~~~~~~~~~

He can't bear the weight of the ceiling so he leaves the building. Outside, it is still dark, but there are people on the streets, and Jensen seeks calm in their scents. The sharp fish-like smell of unwashed and sweaty bodies, the faint taste of apples, honeysuckle and soot. Sometimes, he can smell what they had for dinner, the women's make-up, and that odd smell he suspects to be cancer.

And that one distinctive odor he smelt so many years ago, that he thought he would never encounter again.

He turns around and around, scenting and searching, but there's nothing. No one.

~~~~~~~~~~

 _Jensen always thought he would die on the streets, mugged, stabbed, or shot to death. He never thought he would die in a_ closet.

_Ty is cupping his cheek when he comes to. It's an affectionate gesture, but unfortunately, it's a lie._

_His wrists and ankles are bound, his limbs feel like lead, and Ty's caress is sweet. Nothing makes sense, his world is upside down, and all he wants to do is curl into a ball and sleep._

_“Oh my precious pet,” Ty says, his thumb rubbing over Jensen's lips. “I'm almost sad that it has to end this way. You were my most favorite pet. If it were possible, I'd keep you. Well, it is possible, but I don't want to.”_

_He grins wolfishly._

_Jensen's voice is hoarse, his throat parched. “What... what are you doing?” he asks. “What is the meaning of this?”_

_Ty seems to be caught unawares. “The meaning? There's no meaning. I can do it, and that's all there is.” He closes the doors. “Now be a good pet and scream.”_

~~~~~~~~~~

_It is dark._

_Jensen's sitting in a closet, bound, in a rundown room, in a dilapidated building, in a city that condemned him, in a world he ceased to be a part of._

_It is dark, and he is scared. And hungry, so hungry. He is ravenous. The hunger is boiling in his guts, shredding his stomach, his intestines to tiny pieces._

_He tries to loosen his bonds, nibbling at the rope, when he smells it – the most delicious smell ever. Heavy, strong, rich, shades of copper and salt, connotations of despair and darkness._

_It's his blood. There's a tiny drop of blood on his chafed wrist, singing to him a siren's song, irresistible._

_Licking it makes his senses explode._

_He can see every little shade of dark – the gray, the light black and the dark black, pitch-dark and coal-black. He smells the roaches beyond the walls, and the scurrying rats. He hears nothing though because of his blood pumping through his veins, drowning his ears in moremoremore. He feels light-headed and down-to earth, euphoric and depressed because there won't be enough blood to appease his hunger even if he gnaws and nibbles at his wrist, his fingers, his arms with new teeth. He tries, though._

~~~~~~~~~~

_In a closet without light, there is also no time. It is a time-free zone, and Jensen could be there for a hundred years without growing old._

_Sometimes, he is conscious. Sometimes, he is not. Sometimes, he is not aware that he is conscious because there is no difference between having his eyes open, or closed._

_He stares into the darkness with his eyes closed, listening to his heart beating slowly, his lungs drawing breaths slowly. Since he stopped licking and drinking his own blood, the air tastes like ash._

_There is no use in ingesting his blood if it doesn't satisfy his raging hunger._

_When he gets rid of his bonds it's because his wrists have grown too thin to keep the rope in place. It just drops onto his thighs when he moves. Unfortunately, he is too weak now to try to get the door opened, too weak to do anything other than sit in the dark._

_He is glad that there is no light._

_He is scared because it could be the light at the end of the tunnel. He would be dead if he saw the light. And in spite of everything, he wants to live when they find him. He doesn't know who may ever find him in that closet, but he wants to be alive when they do._

_Nevertheless, he shies away when one day –_ one night, one year _– the world tears open, vomiting light and demons on him. He tries to fight tooth and nail, but he is too weak. Soon, he is overpowered and dragged to Hell._

~~~~~~~~~~

Later he learned that Hell was a mental institution, that he tried to kill the construction workers who searched the building for homeless persons. Apparently, he was trapped for almost five months, and the day Ty backstabbed him was the day before its scheduled demolition. Luckily, the demolition works were delayed, otherwise he'd be dead.

Or maybe it was no luck that saved his life because it was Hell. The first weeks in the loony bin are still lost in a haze of withdrawal and pain.

Of course nobody believed him when he said he was locked in a closet for five months. They said it was just a few days and he was confused. They gave him drugs that really confused him until he started saying _Yes, ma'am_ and _Yes, sir_.

_How are you, Jensen? – I'm fine, sir._

_Do you know why you are here? – Yes, ma'am._

_Are you better now? – Yes, ma'am._

He lied through his teeth – his strange new teeth – until he was free to start a new life.

~~~~~~~~~~

It's a beautiful building, just a few years old. Six floors of offices, some windows lit – though Jensen queries whether there are people working, it's way too early.

He can still see where the room was. It's like there is a ghost of the old structure superimposing onto the new one. There, on the second floor – _right there_.

Jensen breathes slowly. He can do it.

Eyes closed, scenting the air, he can smell it, feel it. A kind of dread, sinking slowly into his bones. It is not Jensen's emotion, though, but it's like a beacon, guiding him.

Near the docks, the scent gets stronger, enveloping him until he is the scent. So, actually, it's two scents that he follows, but they are so intermingled that they are hard to distinguish. And then, right in front of an old warehouse, he recognizes what's lying beneath – arrogance, viciousness, spiders and green leaves.

_Ty._

The memories are slamming him against the wall of the warehouse, squeezing his throat. He whispers _It's gone, the closet's gone, I'm out_ until he believes it.

Sucking in air in big gulps, willing his heart to beat with less speed, he finally succeeds in calming down.

When he shoves the door open, it's dark inside, the air stale. A pale light shines through dirty windows, and it's enough for him to see clearly.

Someone has been in the warehouse recently, disturbing the dust on the floor and leaving the scent of leaves shrouded in fear. It's almost palpable, wafting on the floor.

Jensen is moving cautiously through the big hall, empty except for some abandoned pallets and newspapers. He opens the door to the staircase, inching upstairs until he reaches a hallway. There are half a dozen doors – offices – that open off the hall, and he ponders on where to start.

“Hello, pet.”

~~~~~~~~~~

His eyes are the same gray – storm clouds in a dark sky. He is as handsome as ever, wearing a turtleneck sweater under his jacket, and Jensen knows how built he is underneath.

“Ty,” he breathes, and it is not the prayer it used to be. It is a warning, a cold threat – unfortunately, it fails to have the desired effect.

Ty raises his hand, putting a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. He blows smoke in the air, but it's scentless. It is as if Jensen is watching TV, he can see Ty, the cigarette, the smoke – but there's no smell.

It is disturbing.

“I feel flattered,” Ty says. “You didn't forget me.”

Jensen feels hot inside. It is rage, pain, and fear he has to rein in, and it's hard not to rip Ty a new one, _literally_.

“How could I?” Jensen's voice is even, standoffish, and he is proud of it. “You hurt me and left me to die in a closet. You made me a monster, and you dare think I could forget you?”

“Ahh no. I was just being polite.” Ty shifts, leaning against the door frame, holding the cigarette between his fingers. “I was pretty surprised when I learned that you were still alive. First, I wanted to fix it, but then I thought about the advantages.”

“Advantages? You call it _advantageous_ that you didn't succeed in _killing me_?”

“Yeah well, wasting that ass of yours would be a shame. You always were my favorite pet. After all, I did let you come, didn't I?”

Ty's hand is cool on Jensen's skin, cupping his cheek tenderly, and his eyes are... gray, still gray like thunderclouds, but warm. Jensen can see something like warmth in there, and he remembers the nights with Ty. They were so unlike his usual nights, Ty was so unlike his usual clients, affectionate, caressing – acting like the perfect boyfriend.

He remembers feeling skin on skin, lips and fingers on his dick, and he finds himself becoming hard.

“You're so beautiful,” Ty says. “You could never be a monster because you're beautiful inside and out.”

Those eyes – thunderclouds, harbingers of rain and storm, life-giving, life-destroying – those eyes never failed him, never let him down. Gray clouds and a rainbow of hope for a new life.

“I gave you a new life, my pet, and you've been strong enough to survive. We could be so good together.”

Ty's eyes are the sky, and the earth. The rain is Jensen's blood. The storm is the air that he's breathing. Ty's gaze is stripping him right down to his bones until there is nothing left of him. Save for his dick, hard and aching.

“The others will be so envious at me. They'll want you, but you're mine. You'll never want anybody else, and you'll forget that bag of meat. I'll make you forget.”

Ty's lips meet Jensen's, and they are hot, and cold, and _wrong_ , breathing insubstantial, scentless smoke into his lungs. His eyes are gray, not _hazelbluebrown_ , maybe storm clouds but no swirling emotions.

It's everything Jensen wants. Until it isn't.

“No,” he mutters against lips that are cloaking his brain with fog and tranquility. When they withdraw with surprise, he can breathe again, smelling cigarette smoke.

Suddenly, he is encased in a smell of green leaves, tarmac and rain, nicotine and tobacco.

His head is aching, it feels like someone is sticking burning needles into his brain. He needs to brace himself against the wall in order to prevent himself from collapsing.

“What did you do?” he rasps, searching Ty's eyes.

Ty drops the cigarette. “Just made sure you wanted to stay.” He sighs. “Jensen, I'm your dad. You're the first of my kids that I want to stay.”

“God, that just sounds so... _wrong_. And for the record, I'm not interested. You changed me into... _something_ – and I still don't know how you did it – you tried to kill me, and I think, I'm not the only one you hurt and killed. You're a monster.”

Ty shrugs. “Oh, it's all about procreation. But let's not forget that you killed too. Poor Tahmoh, and he was one of your kind.”

“It was self-defense. He threatened my boyfriend.”

“Oh yes, your _boyfriend_. That lanky puppy. I bet he's quite delicious.”

Jensen straightens himself, the need for support forgotten. “If you as much as lay a finger on him... I'm gonna rip you apart!”

“You can try that. But I think you know it wouldn't be easy. Compared to me, Tahmoh was a wuss. I'm not.”

And that is true, Jensen can feel it in his bones, it is a smell like beeswax in the air. There's power rolling off Ty in strong waves, making Jensen shiver. He stands his ground, though.

“I'm not afraid of you,” he says.

Ty's answer is a head tilt. “Oh yes, you are. And with good reason. I'll always be stronger and faster than you. I can manipulate you without you knowing. Because I made you.”

“You made me a monster!”

“Aah... no. You're the same beautiful person as before, just a little bit, uh... enhanced. And you still haven't reached your full potential.”

He reaches out his hand, cupping Jensen's cheek, and Jensen flinches. “Don't touch me.”

Ty's grin is conceited and cruel.

Suddenly, Jensen finds himself pinned against the wall, his wrists secured in Ty's strong hands. He's leaning in, his breath ghosting, caressing over Jensen's skin.

“I'm gonna show you how good it can be, how good we can be. I'm gonna rip you apart and piece you back together, and you're going to love it. And then I'll pay a visit to your little boyfriend who may be not so little. Let's see if he can live up to my expectations.”

~~~~~~~~~~

His whole life, Jensen fought, one way or the other. To stay alive, keep a piece of bread, keep control over his ass. This fight with Ty – it is fierce and ferocious, and it is about protecting Jared, so Jensen wins.

Ty's death must have been messy and bloody – Jensen can't remember. Even years later, when he tries to recall, he comes up blank. There are hints of what he did but he can't be sure.

Coming back from the haze, the dark place he can't remember entering, he blinks. He is alive, must be, because Ty is dead, the body lying at Jensen's feet, the head... _elsewhere_.

The only way of killing someone like Ty – _like Jensen_ – is breaking their neck. Severing the head works too, though there's no need for ripping an arm off. And there is so little blood. Sure, there are blood splatters all over the walls and the floor, but considering Ty's wounds – the rips, and tears, and bite marks – it should be much more.

Did Jensen drink it? Hopefully not.

Jensen needs to rest. His legs are weak, so he sits down on the floor, breathing laboriously. The scratches, and bruises, and bite marks all over his body are healing quickly, he can see his skin knitting itself together, pale and immaculate.

Ty's smell is still lingering in the hallway, a bitter remnant of power, but the odor of rain is getting stronger instead of waning.

Finally, Jensen is able to move without trouble, and, following the rainy smell, enters one of the old offices. It's a dank room, the clamminess coming through the broken windows from the river that runs right outside the building.

A naked figure is lying on the floor, next to the window, ready to be disposed of like a bag of waste into the river – a man, hands and feet bound with thick ropes that are restricting the blood flow, chafing Jensen's wrists and ankles, and if he could see a damn thing, he could get rid of them...

 _No_.

No, he's out. He is safe, and the closet is gone. There's no need to be scared.

The poor guy on the floor is groaning, bringing Jensen back to the rundown office.

“Hey, it's okay,” he says, rolling the man onto his back, and it's not a man, it's just a boy, barely legal, bleeding sluggishly from a bite wound in his shoulder. He is bruised and battered, and – evidence of Ty's preference for young men – there is semen dripping to the ground from between his legs.

While untying the poor boy, who is coming to slowly, something stirs in Jensen's mind. A dark memory, or maybe an association, a word. And he knows what he will see even before the young man speaks.

“Who are you?” he croaks, sharp teeth poking into his lip.

“I'm Jensen. Who are you, and what happened?”

“I'm... Matt. What happened?”

“You don't remember? - Alright, first, let's get the hell out of Dodge, then we'll figure it out. Let's go home.”

Matt is shaking his head. “I can't. I can't go home.”

 _Of course_. “Okay, I'll take you to my place, and we'll take it from there.”

Helping Matt dress is easy, compared to taking him home. He has lost too much blood to be able to move quickly, shuffling his feet slowly across the floor, panting heavily. They leave the building through the back exit where they find a bin full of rain water so Matt can wash himself as well as possible.

After a few blocks, when Jensen thinks it's safe, they get a cab.

Matt's eyes are closed, his head leaning against the back rest.

Jensen is looking out of the cab window, sees the orange light of dawn creep through the streets. The sun is rising, the sun always rises, doesn't matter what happens.

The word is still poking at Jensen's mind, procreation.

Matt is a newborn – not created by blood alone, though. Jensen knows how blood affects him, but his donors – especially Jared – are not affected in this kind of way. And he has never created another creature only by exchanging blood.

There must be something he has missed.

 _Procreation_. Male and female joined in a dance as old as nature. But Jensen is gay, and Ty's proclivity was young males. So how did he create Jensen and Matt?

When Jensen found Matt, he was hurt and bleeding. It was obvious that Ty bit him while having sex. Unprotected... bareback...

_Oh God._

~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually, they arrive at Jared's apartment that Jensen considers theirs until they actually move in together. He rushes Matt out of the cab, into the building and into the lift. He is too preoccupied to realize that he actually is inside that tiny cage for the first time since he was released from the nut house.

Inside his head, there's just one single thought buzzing.

_Blood and semen... procreation... that's all it needs... blood and semen._

When they enter the apartment, Matt is practically dead on his feet, and Jared is coming out of the bed room, still tired, yawning.

_Oh God, the teeth... his teeth!_

“Jensen...” he rasps. “What happened? I feel weird.”

Slowly, oh so slowly, Jensen sinks to his knees. He betrayed Jared's trust in the worst possible way. Granted, he didn't know. He didn't know about his own nature, and Jared is the victim. He killed his boyfriend with his own hands.

“I'm so sorry,” he whispers.

Jared looks at Matt, and after a moment's contemplation, raises his hand to touch his teeth. Then he's turning to Jensen.

“What the fuck, Jensen?”

“I'm so sorry, baby, I didn't know,” he sobs. “I didn't know.”

“I'm like you now, right?”

Jensen nods in confirmation.

Jared's fingers prod at his elongated canines for a moment longer, then, tilting his head, he says, “Cool.”

~fin~


End file.
